e a queer thing, to be sure!
However, everything is queer to-day."

Just then she heard something splashing about in the pool a little way
off, and she swam nearer to make out what it was: at first she thought
it must be a walrus or hippopotamus, but then she remembered how small
she was now, and she soon made out that it was only a mouse that had
slipped in like herself.

"Would it be of any use now," thought Alice, "to speak to this mouse?
Everything is so out-of-the-way down here, that I should think very
likely it can talk: at any rate, there's no harm in trying." So she
began: "O Mouse, do you know the way out of this pool? I am very tired
of swimming about here, O Mouse!" (Alice thought this must be the right
way of speaking to a mouse; she had never done such a thing before, but
she remembered having seen in her brother's Latin Grammar, "A mouse--of
a mouse--to a mouse--a mouse--O mouse!") The Mouse looked at her rather
inquisitively, and seemed to her to wink with one of its little eyes,
but it said nothing.

"Perhaps it doesn't understand English," thought Alice; "I daresay it's
a French mouse, come over with William the Conqueror." (For, with all
her knowledge of history, Alice had no very clear notion how long ago
anything had happened.) So she began again: "Ou est ma chatte?" which
was the first sentence in her French lesson-book. The Mouse gave a
sudden leap out of the water, and seemed to quiver all over with fright.
"Oh, I beg your pardon!" cried Alice hastily, afraid that she had hurt
the poor animal's feelings. "I quite forgot you didn't like cats."

"Not like cats!" cried the Mouse, in a shrill, passionate voice. "Would
_you_ like cats if you were me?"

"Well, perhaps not," said Alice in a soothing tone: "don't be angry
about it. And yet I wish I could show you our cat Dinah: I think you'd
take a fancy to cats if you could only see her. She is such a dear quiet
thing," Alice went on, half to herself, as she swam lazily about in the
pool, "and she sits purring so nicely by the fire, licking her paws and
washing her face--and she is such a nice soft thing to nurse--and she's
such a capital one for catching mice----oh, I beg your pardon!" cried
Alice again, for this time the Mouse was bristling all over, and she
felt certain it must be really offended. "We won't talk about her any
more if you'd rather not."

"We, indeed!" cried the Mouse, who was trembling down to the end of his
tail. "As if _I_ wo